


Powerplay

by ScQ



Category: Once Upon a Time in Wonderland (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21952315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScQ/pseuds/ScQ
Summary: Plans are set into motion when a thief attempts to steal from the sorcerer Jafar. (AU where Will and Ana ran away to Agrabah instead of Wonderland)
Relationships: Jafar/Red Queen | Anastasia
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Powerplay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aproclivity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aproclivity/gifts).



It was still dark outside his window when Jafar woke up. He lay still for a moment, listening, trying to discern what it was that had woken him. He heard it coming from outside his bedroom -- soft footsteps, a faint clanging of metals together, a string of English curse words, spoken in a whisper.

He stood up silently, keeping an eye on the parlor as he pulled on a robe and reached for his staff. He paused, glancing at the staff before deciding on a dagger instead. Jafar could handle a common thief on his own.

When he stepped out of his room, he spotted the thief in front of an open chest, picking through Amara’s old clothes and jewelry. Her back was to him, but judging by her blonde hair and pale skin, she was likely a foreigner. It made sense -- everyone from around here knew better than to break in to this home.

Once Jafar was close enough behind her, he adjusted his grip on the dagger and growled low, “Stand up.”

She started, then her body tensed. She stood up slowly, and as she did, Jafar put a hand around her arm and the dagger lightly against her throat.

“You’re a light sleeper,” she muttered.

“And you’re a shit thief,” answered Jafar.

Ana sighed through her nose, and nodded as best she could without interfering with the blade. “Yeah,” she said.

“With an ill-advised plan,” he added gravely. “Agrabah’s crawling with thieves, but no one ever touches this place.” He tilted his head, speaking close to the shell of her ear. “Do you know why that is?”

She shook her head lightly. “No,” she said.

“We have a reputation for being quite uncharitable towards strangers. Particularly those who trespass in the night and take what doesn’t belong to them.”

For a moment, she went silent. Jafar felt her tremble slightly. “We?” she asked eventually.

Jafar’s head turned almost instinctively in the direction of his bedroom, where he had left the serpent staff resting against the wall. Instead of providing her an answer, though, he pulled the dagger tighter against her throat. Ana whimpered and shied away from it, moving into his chest. For now, he allowed it.

“Are you gonna kill me?” Her voice was steady, almost calm. It might have deceived him if it weren’t for her quiet, shallow breaths, and the increasing speed of her pulse that Jafar could feel in her arm.

“Perhaps.” Almost certainly, actually, but Jafar couldn’t help toying with her a little.

He repositioned his hand a little higher on her shoulder, and it touched her sleeve. His brow furrowed and he glanced down at it, running the hem between his fingers. The fabric was unexpectedly soft. It had to be silk, or something similarly luxurious. Not something he would expect a thief to wear. In fact, it wasn’t something he expected many people in Agrabah to be wearing, unless they dwelt amongst the wealthy. “Where did you get this?”

Ana leaned back a little. “I stole it,” she said.

“From where?”

“From the palace.”

“You stole it from the palace?” His tone became doubtful and interested. He lifted the blade off her neck while his other hand pulled her shoulder, twisting her around to face him. Her eyes flicked up to his and he deepened his gaze. “I’m asking because I’ve heard rumors of a white woman who acted as a servant to the palace, then stole a chest of jewelry and disappeared. Is that woman you?”

She watched him warily. “Does it matter?”

“It does,” he said, taking a step forward. “Was it you?”

Ana took a half step back. “Yes.”

He knitted his eyebrows. From what he’d heard, the rewards she’d claimed would have her set for life. Comfortable, even. “And you’re still stealing because…”

She set her jaw. “I have my reasons,” she said, her shoulders squaring. It was a cute little display of defiance, but Jafar wouldn’t bet on it haven’t any sort of merit.

His eyes glittered dangerously and he tested his theory, placing the tip of the dagger under her chin and tilting it upwards. She tensed, and he caught a spark of fear in her expression.

She sighed, her nose wrinkling. One more moment of resistant silence, then she opened her mouth. “Someone stole them from me,” she admitted, glancing off. Brief, mocking amusement crossed Jafar’s features and he raised his eyebrows. Ana scowled. “I’m a shit thief, remember?”

She glanced down towards where the blade was pressing against her chin, then up again at Jafar. He obliged, dropping his hand back to his side. “Well then,” he said, offering her a charming yet insincere smile, “I suppose I’m not going to kill you after all. You’re going to introduce me to the Sultan.”

She laughed, dryly and almost automatically. “Like hell. No, I’m not.” She looked up at Jafar, her gaze panicked but steely. “I’d rather you kill me here and get it over with.”

“I’m afraid it’s not optional,” said Jafar. He waved his hand, conjuring chains on the wall that he latched Ana into, outside the entrance to his bedroom. For her part, she was smart enough to accept defeat and not struggle pointlessly. “Get some rest,” he said, a gesture of false compassion, “We leave at first light tomorrow.”

The chains were long enough that she could lie on the floor, but not long enough for her to do much else. Jafar stalked back into his room and settled into his bed.

He had barely closed his eyes when, from the other room, Ana said, “What business do you have at the palace?” And a few beats later, “What do you want from the Sultan?” Her tone sounded resentful, but obviously she wasn’t resentful enough to not talk to him at all. That was unfortunate. When she got no response, she said nothing for a few minutes, and then, “Is it just you that lives here?”

“Quiet,” Jafar growled.

The chains rattled as Ana sat against the wall. “At least tell me your name,” she said.

Jafar looked up at the ceiling, his irritation growing steadily. “My name is Jafar,” he said eventually.

“Jafar…” she said, testing it on her tongue. The way she said it made his skin prickle, and not entirely in a bad way. But whatever that was, she ruined it a moment later by continuing to talk, “Did you teach yourself magic? Or did someone teach you?”

He raised a hand into the air, casting an immobilization spell on Anastasia. He couldn’t see her, but he was competent enough to know that it had worked. “If you won’t be quiet, I will keep you quiet,” he said. After a minute or so, he added, “Would you like to stay like that all night?”

Jafar couldn’t actually keep her under that spell all night -- at most it would only last a couple of hours, unless he woke up to renew it -- but she didn’t need to know that. He knew a spell that would turn her to stone, but that was a difficult one to undo. He could mute her. That was probably his best option. It had the same problem as the immobilization spell: it would ebb away in an hour or so, but that might be enough time for him to fall asleep for a bit. Or for her to lose motivation. And if nothing else, a physical gag might do the trick.

He released her and waited for her to say something else, but she was quiet. Jafar was perfectly content with that. He closed his eyes and sank further into his pillows. But he soon found that, even in silence, he was unable to go back to sleep. A sigh rose in his throat.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Anastasia,” she said. Then, softly, “All the questions I asked you earlier. I talk when I’m nervous. And when I can’t sleep.”

Jafar didn’t understand that. He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Still, he couldn’t sleep either, so what was the harm in keeping her talking? He wasn’t interested in her, surely not, but he said, “And your story?”

He heard her chuckle as she processed the question. “I came to Agrabah about two years ago,” she said. “From Sherwood Forest. That’s where I’m from. Ever heard of it?”

“Mm,” Jafar hummed in confirmation.

“I was in love with this man -- his name was Will Scarlet.” She sounded thoughtful as she spoke of him. “He was… great. Really, genuinely kind, and funny, and sensitive.” Jafar didn’t particularly want to hear about this man, he realized, but he had asked. And there was enough sadness in her voice that he suspected Will had died. “My mum didn’t approve of him,” Ana said, “Because he was a thief and he wasn’t a prince or a nobleman, and I get that. But have you ever been in love? It’s like none of that bullshit matters.”

Jafar knew people did stupid things when they were in love, and he actually understood that. No, he’d never been in love, but he had loved his father, and he would’ve leapt into a pit of scorpions to save him.

“So, we ran away,” said Anastasia. “Traveled as far away from home as the ships would take us; ended up in Agrabah. It was a fresh start. No more stealing.” She paused and swallowed. “We tried getting jobs. Will was a good baker. He worked some, at the bakery, but it didn’t pay much. And as it turns out, I have no practical skills, so I couldn’t find a job at all, really.” She laughed a little, then continued, “We were still living on the streets, barely eating. We got desperate. No more stealing, we said, but…”

Her voice broke off and she breathed heavy. It wasn’t an unusual story, yet Jafar was riveted. “He got caught breaking into the palace. Steal from the rich, because the rich won’t feel it… I don’t think the guard that caught him even hesitated.” The chains rattle a little. She took another shaky breath, laughing a bit at her own pain, and kept talking, “So I go to the palace with this sob story. I dunno what my goal was, really, I was angry and I -- I think I just wanted them to see the hurt they caused. But the princess took pity on me and offered me a position as one of her servants.”

“So you stole some jewelry and left,” Jafar finished. It didn’t have the most satisfying ending, but life rarely did. “Finished what your love started.”

“Not immediately, but yeah, I did,” Ana answered. “I couldn’t be there anymore.”

“Now answer me this.” Jafar rarely felt empathy for other people, but perhaps the late hour of the night was making him more receptive. “When you went to the palace for the first time, after the death of your Will Scarlet,” he said, “Would you have killed them, if you had the chance?”

Anastasia considered it for a second. “Who?” she asked. “The Sultan? The guards? Everyone in the room?” Jafar didn’t respond. Ana was quiet for a good while longer before she answered, in a voice that was barely audible, “Yes. I would have.”

“And would you now?”

She fell silent again, and Jafar waited for her to speak. She didn’t for the rest of the night.

\-----

Jafar and Anastasia arrived in the throne room of the Sultan of Upper Agrabah in the late afternoon the following day, accompanied by guards. Ana walked in front with her wrists bound, being pushed forward every once in a while by one of the guards, and Jafar walked a step behind them all, watching.

“My Sultan,” a guard said with a bow. “This man brings you the thief that took riches from the palace.” Jafar bowed as the Sultan looked him over. To his surprise, Ana also bowed, though it was more of a dip of her head than anything else.

“We thank you for bringing her to us,” said the Sultan to Jafar. “You will receive a reward.”

“Your Majesty,” Jafar said, bowing his head again. “You are too generous.” He loathed groveling, particularly to such a small minded ruler, but he had to do what he had to do. His eyes traveled over to Ana; she was quiet and her head was down. “If I may ask, what’s to become of the thief?”

“Our kingdom suffers a great loss because of that rat. She will pay with her life, after she’s questioned,” answered the Sultan.

He nodded, looking back to the Sultan. “Then perhaps I can be of further assistance.” He took a step forward and the Sultan raised his head. “I don’t seek the monetary reward,” said Jafar. “It wouldn’t be right, when I’ve brought you the thief and not what she stole.”

“What do you mean?” asked the Sultan.

Jafar clasped his hands behind his back and lifted his chin. “Allow me to demonstrate my value to you on this thief. Let me question her. I believe I can find what’s been taken from you.” He knew the palace had its own inquisition system. He also knew the success rate of these inquisitions was embarrassingly low. If the Sultan actually wished to get some information out of Anastasia, he would want to take Jafar’s offer.

The Sultan rose from his throne and stepped forward, closer to Jafar. He glanced around and when he spoke, he lowered his voice discreetly. “You believe you can get back what we lost?”

“I can,” Jafar said, matching the Sultan’s voice. “I have a way with getting what I want.”

“What is your name?” asked the Sultan.

“Jafar, Your Majesty.”

“Very well, Jafar. You will have three days. If you can accomplish what you say you can, you will be even more greatly rewarded.”

Jafar bowed his head.

“Give him a room,” the Sultan ordered the servants, then said to the guards, “And take her to the dungeons.”

\-----

Jafar sat in his room that night, looking over his spellbook. One of his hands glided over the head of the serpent staff, stroking her scales absently. So far, things were moving according to plan. Get a temporary position at the palace, check. Now he had to prove his value, get a permanent position at the palace, then rise higher in the ranks.

Of course, he wasn’t intending to play fairly. Achieving his goals the regular way would take him months at least. But with the help of a little magical influence on the Sultan once he got him alone, he could do it in a few days. Of course, his staff could only hypnotize weak minds, but Jafar had a feeling the Sultan’s mind would not be an issue there.

And once he was of high enough rank -- say, Grand Vizier -- he could order royal soldiers to find the last bottle for him. Soon he would have them all, and he would finally be able to cast the spell to break the laws of magic. Soon he would get revenge on his father.

But first, he had to deal with Anastasia. She said the jewels had been stolen from her, and he didn’t have a reason to doubt that. He didn’t think that answer would please the Sultan, though. Perhaps she knew something else, something more about who took them, or where they might have ended up. He would see what she knew in the morning. Or he could start now. The guards had orders to let him visit her whenever.

There was a knock at his door and Jafar frowned, standing up to answer it. Standing in the entrance way, wearing a dark cloak with the hood pulled over her head, was Anastasia. It was unexpected, but Jafar reacted immediately, pulling her into the room and shutting the door. The last thing he needed was the Sultan and the palace at large thinking they were working together.

“How did you get out?” he snapped.

“The Sultan underestimated me,” she said, shrugging and pulling down her hood. “I have friends here.”

That was certainly interesting, Jafar thought, and he wondered just how many ‘friends’ she had made here. A couple of brave servants? Any guards? It was unlikely she had influenced the loyalties of more than a few palace attendants. But the strange spark in her eyes was giving Jafar the distinct impression that maybe she could convince anyone to abandon their principles.

“And you chose to find me rather than get out of the palace while you still had the chance?” Jafar clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “That was poor judgment.”

“It was a calculated risk,” she said.

“To what ends?”

Ana lifted her chin, hesitating. “I have something you want,” she said. Her eyes were focused and searching his. She seemed a little anxious, but less so than she did last night.

“You do,” he agreed. His gaze fell to her lips, briefly wondering what they’d taste like, before looking back into her eyes. “Information on where I can find the jewelry you stole.”

Ana blinked, straightening her back. “I already told you. Somebody stole it from me.” She tutted, a half-smirk tugging at her lips. “Jafar,” she said, in a tone that was almost mocking, “You were so confident in that throne room. Acting like you know what you’re doing. But you don’t, do you?”

A flash of anger pulsed through Jafar, and he pulled her against him, roughly, his hand around her throat. “I could always just kill you,” he hissed, his hand squeezing harder until he could hear her struggling for breath. She wriggled against his grip, attempting to break out of it, but he held her firmly. “Say the questioning got out of hand. Or that I caught you escaping and did what I had to.”

She managed to jab her elbow into his stomach and he grunted, still holding onto her, but loosening his grip enough for her to speak. Straining, she managed to get out, “And ruin your reputation so soon with an unsuccessful interrogation? You’re bluffing.”

Jafar kept her there a moment longer, enjoying the feeling of the arteries in her neck pumping blood under his fingertips, away from her heart and into her head. But she was right. He was bluffing. He took his hands off her throat and released her, taking a step back.

Ana bent down, steadying herself with her hands on her knees. Her breath came out in short heaves, somewhere between a gasp and a wheeze. She recovered fairly quickly and stood up, glaring at Jafar. Her eyes stuck to him like daggers, hatred and desire shining clear as daylight inside them. It wasn’t quite the response he expected after threatening her life, but he certainly wasn’t objecting to it. Her lips were parted slightly as she took in hard breaths, and Jafar once again fixated on them as if trying to burn her skin under his gaze.

It didn’t take much to know what was on his mind, now, and Ana seemed to feel the same. She stepped forward and pushing her lips against his, though it was much more an act of aggression than it was a kiss. She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him down. Jafar took a step towards her, parting her lips with his tongue as he drove her back, maneuvering her towards the writing desk.

Her lips were warm, soft; he sucked on the bottom one and she bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. Jafar hissed and pulled back, his nails digging into her thigh in an instinct reciprocation as he set her on the table. He snarled and angled for her lips again, but Anastasia lifted her chin at the last moment, granting him access to her neck instead.

There would already be bruises here from before. Might as well add some more, Jafar reasoned, grazing his teeth along the pulse in her neck, sucking and biting at her delicate skin. She squirmed a little, tossing her head back further and whimpering: no doubt she was already sensitive and sore from the chokehold.

One of his hands held her chin at the right angle while the other slid down her chest and under her shirt, cupping her soft breasts. He sighed in appreciation, pinching one nipple and pulling it until Ana yelped and lurched forward. Jafar grinned maliciously and Ana scowled, pulling her shirt off over her head impatiently. He paused, taking a moment to appreciate her form, her rounded breasts with delicious-looking pink tips.

He dipped his head lower and took one into his mouth and one in his hand, while he brushed his other hand up her thigh, against her abdomen and into her pants. Ana put her hand on his shoulder and sucked in a breath, shaking slightly in anticipation. He lifted his head, wanting to watch her face.

Jafar positioned his hand carefully, his other fingers resting on her inner thigh while his thumb rubbed against her clit. Ana’s eyes squeezed shut and she moaned loudly, breathily, her mouth opening and her head falling back. He continued the motion while running his middle finger through her folds, marveling in her wetness before sliding his finger inside her.

She was pressing into his touch eagerly, entranced. Her fingers were trying to undo the belt which was holding his robe together. She wasn’t going to have much luck, seeing as the ties were at the back. Jafar undid them with a wave of his hand and Ana opened his robe. She undid the ties on his pants next and wrapped her warm fingers around him, stroking his length with firm motions.

Jafar growled and changed course, picking her up and throwing her on the bed. They discarded the rest of their clothing quickly and Ana pulled Jafar onto the mattress, rolling him over and climbing on top of him. Her blonde hair was falling against his face as she positioned his cock, sliding the length through her folds a few times before readjusting and sinking down onto it as far as she could.

They both moaned, and Ana slowly built up a rhythm that Jafar matched. He rested on his elbows, watching the pleasure wash over her face and the desperation build as she got closer to the edge. She was moaning his name; it was a beautiful sound.

Jafar felt her start to shake and her muscles starting to tighten around him. His eyes took on a devious glint and without warning, he flipped her over, leaning over her and driving into her painfully slow. He took her hands in his and held them over her head. “Not yet,” he said and she blinked up at him with big, bewildered eyes. As he kept his pace, Ana threw her head back and cried out in frustration. Jafar chuckled.

“Jafar, please,” she panted. Her eyes fluttered shut. “I’m so close, please --”

“What was that?” he asked innocently, tilting his head.

“Please,” Ana whispered hoarsely, and Jafar finally relented, thrusting into her harder and faster until she came with a loud cry. As her walls tightened around him, he stilled inside her, finding his own release.

\-------

Ana had hoped he would be more talkative in his afterglow. That he would let his guard down and share a little more. He wasn’t, and he didn’t. She kissed his shoulder, looking up at him. Anastasia hadn’t planned on fucking him when she’d shown up here, but she was horny and he was gorgeous.

She didn’t regret what they’d done, but it had gotten her more than a little side tracked from the real reason she’d come here. She sat up, watching Jafar. “When I said I have something you want, I wasn’t talking about the jewels,” she said. “I took some from the palace, yes, and they were stolen from me. But that’s not what the Sultan wants back so badly.”

Jafar paused, surprise noticeable in his expression only for a split second. His dark eyes searching her features, trying to read her. “What do you mean?”

“D’you really think they care so much about a few stolen jewels?” Her lips twitched upwards. “Please. People here are swimming in that stuff. Barely even noticed what I took.”

She looked smug and she didn’t seem nervous -- no more so than usual, at least -- so either she was a good liar, or she wasn’t lying.

“I knew who you were when I tried stealing from you yesterday,” she admitted. “Or what you were. I knew the rumors, I mean.” Anastasia paused. She really would rather not be saying this, but since her capture, she didn’t have much of a choice. It was come clean or be tortured and killed. “The thief who took the jewelry from me missed the real prize. No one sees the value in a dusty bottle unless they’re looking for it.”

She watched Jafar’s expression change from confusion to realization, then to something darker. She stood up from the bed, uncomfortably aware of her nakedness. “You have the last genie?” he asked, standing up and walking towards her.

“I want to change the laws of magic,” she said as steadily as she could manage, then, “I want to do it together.”

“Really?” He raised his eyebrows, almost amused. “Is that what you wanted when you broke into my house and attempted to steal the other two bottles for yourself?”

“Okay yes, obviously I’ve changed my plans a little,” Ana said, gesturing around them. “But I’m on your side now. We’ll be stronger together. You’ve got magic, I’ve got convenient friends around the palace…” Jafar looked her over, his brows furrowed. He was listening. That was good. Ana took a breath. “You asked me if I would still kill the people in this palace. I would. I want to. And why stop there? We can burn Agrabah to the ground for all I care. I don’t know what you want to change the Laws of Magic for, but I want to help. We can do it together.” For once she hadn't known what she was saying until she said it, but she was surprised to find she meant every word. 

He blinked, considering her for a moment. He dipped his head slightly, looking thoughtful. "Together," he agreed. 

Ana smiled a little. She didn’t know what his word was good for -- and frankly he didn't seem the trustworthy sort -- but she had a strange feeling they would make quite the team. For the moment, at least.


End file.
